And Then We All Died
by Ari-Skye
Summary: Tragedies happen. They're apart of life. It's what you do in the after math that makes the difference. It takes Roxas' passing to make the people in his life realize death isn't picky. A collection of letters.
1. Table of Contents

Title: And Then We All Died

Rating: T

Summary: Tragedies happen. They're are apart of life. It's what you do in the after math that makes the difference. It takes Roxas' passing to make the people in his life realize death isn't picky. A collection of love letters, rejection letters, and letters from the angry. Together these letters tell a story.

Warning: Copious amounts of guy love

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts

Table of Contents:

**Dear Zexion: One sided Marluixa x Zexion**

_"Sexy Zexy, oh have you earned that nickname."_

**Dear Demyx: Zexion x Demyx**

_"Melodious Nocturne. As you so call your self. You are the endless source of anger and agitation on my aching soul."_

**Dear Zexy: Demyx x Zexion**

_"You're silly, did you know that? You worry too much."_

**Dear Saix: Xemnas x Saix**

_"You are fascinating Saix."_

**Dear Xemnas: Saix x Xemnas**

_"Everyone told me you were crazy. I didn't believe them until you opened your mouth."_

**Dear Ienzo: Vexen to Zexion**

_"You can never outsmart your teacher Ienzo. Keep that in mind."_

**Dear Pinkhaired Dumbass: Larxy to Marluxia**

_"I hate you. I fucking hate you. And I'll tell you why I hate you, you fucking pink-haired prick."_

**Dear Axel: Roxas x Axel**

_"I miss you Axel. I would wish you were here too, but then you would be dead."_

**To the Boy who won't leave me alone: Sora x Riku**

_"Did you know you're hard to forget? Well you are. I've tried to forget you. It's really hard; so can you just go away?"_

**Dear Sora: Riku x Sora**

_"Go away? Oh no my sweet Sora. I will never go away."_

**Idoit: Ventus x Vanitis**

_"You are a one dumb son of a bicth Van. Yeah. I said it."_

**To the Beautiful Moron in the Corner: Vanitis x Ventus**

_"Nothing intelligent ever comes out you your mouth"_

**To My Brother: Sora to Roxas**

_"I wish you were here Rox. I really do."_

**To Chocabo Head: Roxas to Sora**

_"You always were the whiny one."_

**DIZ: Roxas to DIZ**

_"If there was one man on earth I could kill it would be you."_

**Dear Axel: Saix x Axel**

_"We used to be friends. What happened?"_

**5 good reasons to leave me alone: Axel x Saix**

_"You happened Saix. You and your boyfriend Mansex."_


	2. Dear Zexion

Zexion,

Sexy Zexy, oh have you earned that nickname. While most people need to prep and preen themselves to achieve gorgeousness you only need to roll out of bed.

I think you yourself know you're sexy. The way your eyes roll when someone complements your appearance as if to signal you know you're attractive.

Hide it all you want Zexy, your just as bad as the rest of us, just as bad as me.

It's perfectly alright though, that you believe you're fabulous, because you are. The way your lilac hair drops down your face, hiding your dangerous dark blue eyes and high check bones that dance sensually with shadows. You **are** sexy Zexion. By the Gods of Kingdom Hearts don't let anyone tell you different.

It's because of your fabulous, lovely, sophisticated, _irresistible_ features that I am able to pick up on your mood. The way your exquisite eyebrows furrow when your upset, the way your God damn gorgeous eyes glaze over with worry when you're stressed. You also finger your book by the way-when you're stressed-your long elegant fingers skim the pages of your damn lexicon like it's your lover.

I know you try to hide your feelings and mask them with nonchalance, but it doesn't go by me unnoticed, my beautiful lilac peach, I know how upset you've been lately. I know why and I don't like it.

The way Vexen holds your own information over your head like it's a bag of bricks he can let drop on you if you dare to snitch… I used to like him you know; now I hate his guts. I wish I could tell the world what he's done. How all those missing children last summer wasn't just a coincidence. How it wasn't a miracle that half of them found their way back alright. How it was him, that traitorous leech, who abducted them; and how it was you, in a small bout of compassion, who convinced him to let one half of the children go. Who is so heartless as to experiment on children anyway?

I wish I could tell the world how it was him who exhumed all those bodies from the cemetery, him who so callously would not let the dead rest, him who cut up the bodies and scattered them around the homes of their families when he was done with his sick experiments because he thought it was funny. I wish I could tell the world how it was him who killed Ventus…I wish I could, but I can't…I used to like him ; we used to be friends so I ignored all of his savage experiments. Now I hate his guts. Everything about him is suddenly vile, like milk left to spoil. And you know how much I hate spoiled milk.

I can't help but think Demyx has figured everything out as well. Or has he? You two are so close it's sickening. He spends so much time with you that if he hasn't noticed you're stressed and put two and two together with all the clues Vexen has accidentally left behind…I don't know…I don't think he's **for** _you_ Zexion. I think you need someone who can keep up with you intellectually. Someone who won't get on your nerves so much. Demyx lacks tactfulness, social graces, and useful skills. He has a knack for getting on your nerves with minimal effort and has the senses of a brick wall. _And_ he has no sense of style.

I'm sure you've realized I'm jealous by now.

I like you Zexion.

Sexy Zexy….

Let me know when you're ready for a real man; one that knows how to tie his own shoes.

Love,

Marluxia

Please Review!


	3. Dear Demyx

Demyx,

Melodious Nocturne

As you so call your self.

You are the endless source of anger and agitation on my aching soul. A pox on my short existence. And yet, I am drawn to you. I feel like a moth gravitating to an electronic insect killer.

I fear I am a masochist.

How else would you explain why I find myself at your doorstep day after day knowing your unbridled stupidity will bombard me when you open the door; no doubt causing me endless headache.

In the utmost seriousness something must be wrong with me.

Why else would I go to you willingly? Even when you have never asked for my company; not once. Never the less I still show up to the magnificent cerulean entrance of your home, lexicon, my worthless emotional shield in my hand.

I seem to need my lexicon more around you. The unexplainable things you do to my heart; the way you make it clench, engorge, drop and rise by every minuet action you take. My tome suddenly seems essential. Even if it does nothing to protect me from your mysterious effects.

I remember the first time I met you, how I felt the need to clench my chest because suddenly it felt as if humongous winged beasts were batting their wings against my rib cage. How my breath some how seemed to escape me regardless of how many breaths I took.

That night you had looked me in the eyes, a brilliant smile beaming at me and asked "Are you lost?". I remember how I nodded dumbly at that. And how native you, a full four inches taller then me, lead me into your home with your menacing body. And I followed. I blame a serve lapse in judgment for this because who in their right mind would follow someone ten times their size into a home that is clearly not their own? You had offered me food and drink that night, I remember being so thirsty but didn't accept the offer because I was slightly afraid you would poison me.

I sat on your old worn couch, massaging the cotton fabric under my fingers as I waited 15 minutes for you to map quest directions for me, a complete stranger, and sent me on my way. Before I left you had scrawled your name and number on my wrist just in case I got lost. You had offered to give me a ride on your motorcycle but the mere though of riding on such an obnoxious loud beast sent unwelcome shivers down my spine. I declined and you watched me walk all the way down the road until I turned the corner. I gained great respect for you that night. You never once asked me about the gapping wound I had been clutching all the while you were escorting me into your home. For all you know I could have been a criminal. For all you know I could have killed you. But you never once seemed concerned. Not once! Even when I was wincing and groaning ever so slightly as I stroked your couch for comfort. You never asked who I was, were I had came from, or why I was bleeding so heavily. You, naïve Demyx, saved my life that night.

I owe you everything.

Because of the ways you affect me and the fact that you saved my life are perhaps the reasons why I keep returning to you. The fact you never question any new scars or cuts I produce across my body as if by magic, but always hug me a little more gently when I visit you. The way you send me home slightly giddy after I've seen you. Or the longing to run back to you after we've had a particularly harsh fight, to make sure my careless words have not affected you, to access how much I should hate my self if I've made you cry.

I hate it when you cry; I much prefer your smile.

How those smooth lips curve into a smile…the emotions they can provoke!

That smile can make me cry tears coated in joy.

I love your smile Demyx. I have every since I met you.

I would do anything to see you smile.

You know what happened to Roxas right? How Roxas died with out addressing what had been blossoming between him and Axel. How there were so many words that needed to be shared between the two of them but were never said. I don't want that to be us Demyx. What if Vexen pushes it to far one night? What if I don't come home? We can't share the same fate as Axel and Roxas Dem. I refuse to not let you know how I feel.

My point is; Melodious Nocturne, is that I love you.

I love your laughter

Your eyes

Your smile

I love **you**

Don't take this lightly.

I have only loved two people in my entire life.

Sincerely,

Zexion

Please review!


	4. Dear Zexy

Dear Zexy,

You're silly, did you know that? You think I'm naïve and lack common sense but I have **both** I'll have you know. And you're over dramatic by the way. You wouldn't have _died_ if I didn't usher you into my house, you might have stumbled around a bit in the dark, but you wouldn't have _died_. You're house is only three blocks down. My gut told me you were a good person who needed help. So I helped you. Nothing more, nothing less. The friendship that resulted afterward was an unexpected bonus.

The first time you showed up at my door after I helped you, unannounced and wearing a blanket of anxiety, I was shocked. I remember pushing you through the door, worried you were in some sort of trouble again. I remember how your soft, porcelain hands shook when I gave you a mug steaming over with the earthy smell of coffee. Your big navy blue eyes looked up at me with concern; you gave me a look that begged me not to kick you out and ever since I haven't had the heart too. If you showed up at my front door in the darkest part of night or the earliest part of morning I would let you into my home. And asking you questions has never been an option. You don't need to tell me your work is dangerous and not exactly legal. A boulder could see that. As much as I like you- love you- I don't want any part of your professional life. I never have and never will. What I know from the local news is more then enough for me. A part of me believes if I knew the truth, it would be harder to love you. And I kinda love loving you.

Speaking of which, I hope you quit whatever crazy job you have. In the two years we've known each other there hasn't been a day I haven't worried about you. I don't think my heart can take it. You know I have a weak heart, right? Runs in the family. It's the only reason I haven't given you a house key. If I saw you sitting in the dark like you tend to do, with those huge eyes boring into me, you'd scare me quite literally to death. Which reminds me of your letter.

When the paper flew through the mail flap in my door I jumped. The letter got jammed in the slot and you had to push it against the stubborn slot again and again with much bravado. The sound of the metal clinging was nerve racking. I thought someone was trying to break in and I had half a mind to grab my bat. I walked to my door with the utmost caution and picked up the crumpled white paper. When I opened it to find bold handwriting sprawling across the page I was confused, then embarrassed, and then my heart seemed to wiggle it's way down to my stomach and immediately after lurch into my throat. You never had to write me a letter Zexy; I already knew how you felt. The shy glances you give me when you think I'm not looking are adorable and not nearly as discrete as you think. Neither are looks of longing, or the lingering touches, or any of those other cliché things you can't seem to help doing. It's funny actually, you seem like the type of guy that hates clichés.

You're a very lovable person Zexy, I'm surprised you've only truly loved two people in your life. I know one of the two people is Vexen. At one point you must have loved him. For all I know you might still love him. You have to love the person that raised you. It's human nature to develop a fondness for our caretakers. And love makes us to stupid things. Like invite strangers into our homes for comfort and protection for example. I know you hate Vexen right now, and that you hate your self for having compassion for a man that has forgotten what it means to be human, but all of that will pass. He will go to jail and leave you in a mess of blood and hate. You'll have to clean a nasty, bile ridden disaster and even knowing this you can't help but love him for giving you a life, can't help but hate him for what he's done to this town. I understand Zexy, more then you think I do. Which is why I'm in a position to give you advice. You have to let go of the hate. You have to let it wash over you like water in a shower stall. Because if you don't it will drown you. You'll suffocate in greasy water coated in dirt and hair and never be able to truly love someone again; not like you love Vexen; not like you love me.

It's about to get worse. The investigation will become intrusive, the questions more personal. You'll have to relive the worst of your life over and over until the police are satisfied with the information they've collected. You might be arrested as well, if they're feeling particularly venomous. I only know what the newspapers tell me Zexion, but it seems like you and Vexen are in the midst of something dark and vile. With the police taking notice I know it will only get worse for you.

I was planning on moving. I can't stay in one place for to long. My feet start to itch. But I'll stay as long as you need me to Zexion. And maybe next time I move, when this nonsense is all over, I'll bring you with me. I love you Zexy.

Demyx

P.S. You shouldn't leave your mail at my house Zexy. Tell Marluxia those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. That man couldn't tie his shoes if his life depended on it and he's tackier then those floozies from Jersey Shore.

Please Review!


End file.
